ILF 


PSYCHIC  POE 


DR,  NELLIE  BEIGHLE 


LIBRARY 

OF  THF, 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


GIFT  OK 


O/v . 


*  •  s  % « • 


\       *         N 


PSYCHIC  POEMS 


B  Y 

DR.  NELLIE  BEIGHLE 

Author  of  Book  of  Knowledge:  Psychic  Facts 


OFTHE 

UNIVERSITY 

Hicles-Judd  Co.,  Printers  and  Bookbinders 
270-284  Valencia  St.  San  Francisco 
1907 


Copyright,   1907 
By  DR.   NELLIE  BEIGHLE 


DEDICATION. 


To  my  angel  inspirers. 
Through  the  psychic  power  of  Dr.  Nellie  Beighle. 


158020 


INDEX  TO  POEMS. 

Page. 

UNSEEN  1 

SECRET  KNOWLEDGE  2 — 3 

TELL  ME  4 

OH  !  FOR  WINGS  5—6 

BOND  OF  LOVE  7 

NEAR  THEE,  STILL  NEAR  THEE  8 — 9 

To  A  FRIEND  10 

PASSING  AWAY  11 

CONSOLATION  12 

HOLY  ANGELS  GUIDE  MY  FOOTSTEPS  13 

TIRED  -  14—15 

RELIGIOUS  SUPERSTITION  16 

IMPATIENCE  17 

SLEEP  18 

SPIRIT  LAND  19 

CALL  THEM  NOT  BACK     -----  -                20 


INDEX  TO  POEMS. 

(Continued) 

Page. 

THE  SPIRIT  -  21—22 

DREAMS  OF  THE  DEAD  23 

THEY  CROWN   ME  24 

To  MY  SISTER  JESSIE  25 

Music  26—27 

DARLING  28 — 31 

I  DREAMED  OF  THEE  32—33 

MEMORY  34 

TEARS  35 

THINKING  OF  You  36 — 37 

MY  BLOSSOM  38 

MARRIAGE  39 

DEVOTION  40 

SISTER  M.  C.  S.  AND  I  41 

TRAVELS  42 

MISCELLANEOUS  VERSE      -  -                                   -        43 — 62 


UNSEEN 

O !  Thou  rich  world  unseen ! 
That  curtained  realm  of  spirits : — thus  my  cry 
Hath  troubled  air  and  silence. — Dost  thou  lie 
Spread  all  around,  yet  by  some  filmy  screen 
Shut  from  us  ever?    The  resounding  woods, 
Do  their  depths  teem  with  marvels? — And  the  floods, 
And  the  pure  fountains,  leading  secret  veins 
Of  quenchless  melody  through  rock  and  hill, 
Have  they  bright  dwellers  ?    Are  there  lone  domains 
Peopled  with  beauty,  which  may  never  still 
Our  weary  thirst  of  soul? — Cold,  weak  and  cold, 
To  earth's  vain  language ;  piercing  not  one  fold 
Of  our  deep  being?    O !  for  gifts  more  high; 
For  a  seer's  glance  to  rend  mortality; 
For  a  charmed  rod,  to  call  from  each  dark  shrine 

The  oracles  divine ! 

UWVERS! 

s&LIF 


SECRET  KNOWLEDGE. 

Thou  knewest  me  not  in  life's  fresh,  vernal  morn, 
I  would  thou  hads't : — for  then  my  heart  on  thine 
Had  poured  another  love;  now,  all  o'erworn 
By  its  deep  thirst  for  something  too  divine, 
It  hath  but  fitful  music  to  bestow, 
Echoes  of  harpstrings  broken  long  ago. 

Yet,  even  in  girlhood,  companionless  I  stood, 
As  a  lone  forest  bird,  midst  ocean's  foam. 
For  me  the  silver  cords  of  wifehood 
Were  early  loosed;  the  voices  from  my  home 
Passed  one  by  one;  and  melody  and  mirth 
Left  me  a  dreamer  by  a  silent  hearth. 


SECRET  KNOWLEDGE. 

(Continued.) 

But  with  the  fullness  of  a  heart  that  burned 
For  the  deep  mysteries  of  soul  I  turned. 
In  every  still,  small  voice  and  sound  of  power, 
My  life's  one  passion,  the  mysterious  quest 
Of  secret  knowledge;  and  each  tone  that  broke 
From  the  wood  arches,  or  the  fountain's  breast, 
Made  my  quick  soul  vibrate  as  a  lyre, 
And  ministered  to  that  strange,  inborn  fire. 


TELL  ME. 

'Tis  evening,  and  I  sit  me  down 
And  take  my  pen  in  hand, 
To  write  for  you,  my  sister,  dear, 
Who  is  in  the  spirit  land. 

You  tell  me  that  our  sacred  mother 
Is  worshiped  by  you  all, 
And  all  our  loved  ones  join  you, 
When  on  me  you  do  call. 

With  friends,  they  are  so  many, 
Who  join  the  happy  band, 
Filled  with  holy  power  and  wisdom, 
Which  they  bring  from  the  spirit  land, 


TELL  ME. 

(Continued.) 

And  you  tell  me  that  my  father 
And  our  brothers  and  sisters  dear 
Have  power  from  our  Father  in  Heaven, 
To  guard  and  protect  us  here. 

You  tell  me  that  my  God-given  son 
Has  unlimited  power  from  above 
To  enter  the  homes  of  the  sorrowful, 
And  bring  consolation  and  love. 

And  I  am  waiting,  and  waiting,  and  waiting, 
For  my  loved  ones  to  call  me  home; 
But  tell  them  I  know  you  are  with  me 
Wherever  I  may  roam. 


OH!  FOR  WINGS. 

For  wings !    For  wings !  like  a  dove  to  fly, 

Beyond  the  arch  of  the  sapphire  sky! 

To  mount  unchained  through  the  depths  of  air; 

To  bathe  in  floods  of  the  beauty  there; 

And,  raptured,  list  to  the  hymning  spheres, 

With  bliss  unstayed  by  the  flight  of  years. 

Earth  is  no  home  for  the  deathless  soul; 
It  yieldeth  not  to  its  base  control; 
But,  like  a  bird,  in  its  upward  flight, 
It  tires  and  faints  for  its  home  of  light, 
And  pants  to  burst  from  its  prison,  free 
To  blend  itself  with  eternity. 


BOND  OF  LOVE. 

It  was  not  with  bonds  of  common  love 

Our  hearts  were  knit  together;  we  had  been 

Silent  companions  in  those  griefs  which  move 

And  purify  the  soul;  and  we  had  seen 

Each  other's  strength  and  truth  of  mind,  and  hence, 

We  loved  with  passion's  holiest  confidence. 


NEAR  THEE,  STILL  NEAR  THEE. 

Near  thee,  still  near  thee;  o'er  thy  pathway  gliding, 
Unseen,  I  pass  thee  with  the  winds  low  sigh ; 
Life's  veil  enfolds  thee  still,  our  eyes  dividing, 
Yet  vainless  love  floats  round  thee  silently. 

Not  midst  the  festal  throng, 

In  halls  of  mirth  and  song; 

But  when  thy  thoughts  are  deepest, 

When  holy  tears  thou  weepest, 

Know  then  that  love  is  nigh ! 

When  the  night's  whisper  o'er  the  harpstrings  creeping, 
Or  the  sea  music  on  the  sounding  shore; 
Or  breezy  anthems  through  the  forests  sweeping, 
Shall  move  thy  trembling  spirit  to  adore; 


NEAR  THEE,  STILL  NEAR  THEE. 

(Continued.) 

When  every  thought  of  prayer, 
We  loved  to  breathe  and  share, 
On  thy  full  heart  returning 
Shall  wake  its  voiceless  yearning, 
Then,  feel  me  near  once  more. 

The  fields  of  air  are  free, 

Yet  lonely,  wanting  thee; 

But  when  the  chains  are  falling; 

When  heaven  its  own  is  calling, 

Know  then  thy  loved  one  is  nigh. 


TO  A  FRIEND. 

But  Oh !  sweet  friend !  we  dream  not  of  love's  might 
Till  death  has  robed  with  soft  and  solemn  light 
The  image  we  enshrine !    Before  that  hour, 
We  have  but  glimpses  of  the  o'er  mastering  power 
Within  us  laid !    Then  doth  the  spirit  flame, 
With  sword-light  lightning  rend  its  mortal  frame. 


10 


PASSING  AWAY. 

"Passing  away"  is  written  on  the  world,  and  all  the  world  contains; 
It  is  written  on  the  lily,  in  its  glory's  full  array, 

"Passing  away." 

It  is  written  on  the  skies;  it  is  traced  in  sunset's  dyes, 

"Passing  away." 

It  is  written  on  the  trees,  and  on  brighter  things  than  these, 

"Passing  away." 

It  is  written  on  the  heart,  should  claim  from  love  a  part, 

"Passing  away." 

Blessed  friends !    Oh !  shall  we  meet  in  a  land  of  purer  clay, 

Pass  not  away? 

Shall  we  know  each  other  there,  and  the  thoughts  that  in  them  lay, 

"Passing  away?" 

Oh !  if  this  may  be  so,  quickly,  quickly  close  the  day, 

Do  pass  away! 
11 


CONSOLATION. 

Why  mourn  thee  for  the  dead? 
Why  weep  o'er  severed  ties  ? 
The  veil  around  us  spread 
Conceals  them  from  our  eyes  ; 
The  distant  heavens  we  seek  in  vain, 
Where  parted  friends  shall  meet  again; 
The  near,  Oh !  brightly  will  it  dawn, 
When  that  dark  veil  shall  be  withdrawn. 


12 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 

Qt 

^, 

HOLY   ANGELS    GUIDE   MY    FOOTSTEPS, 

Holy  Angels,  guide  my  footsteps, 
Guard  my  thoughts  and  actions,  too, 
Fill  my  soul  with  holy  wisdom, 
Tell  me  what  you  would  have  me  do. 


13 


TIRED. 

I'm  tired  of  gleaning  when  fain  I  would  reap, 
I'm  tired  of  smiling  when  fain  I  would  weep, 
I'm  tired  of  all  the  lonely  hours  that  creep; 
So  tired. 

I'm  tired  of  building  idols  of  clay, 
Of  watching  hope's  sweet  visions  fade  away, 
Of  learning  bitter  lessons  day  by  day; 
So  tired. 

I'm  tired  of  trusting  but  to  be  deceived, 
Of  doubting  when  'twould  be  better  to  believe, 
Of  failure  when  so  much  should  be  achieved; 
So  tired. 


14 


TIRED. 

(Continued.) 

And  yet  I'm  waiting  day  by  day, 
For  the  loved  ones  to  call  me  o'er  the  way, 
And  I  wonder  much  at  their  long  delay, 
For  I  am  still  so  tired. 

Rest,  weary  mortal,  child  of  earth, 
Turn  thy  sadness  into  mirth; 

Years  will  come  and  go  ere  there  comes  a  new  birth, 
But  then  you  will  not  be  tired. 


15 


RELIGIOUS  SUPERSTITION. 

For  when  the  soul  is  blind 

To  freedom,  truth  and  inward  light, 

Vague  fears  debase  the  mind. 


16 


IMPATIENCE. 

Oh !  answer,  orb  of  the  silver  glow ! 

My  soul  is  faint  in  its  thirst  to  know; 

Answer  me,  stars  of  the  cloudless  sky! 

My  thought  has  pierced  where  your  pathway  lies, 

Till  lost,  and  tired  of  the  empty  strife, 

My  spirit  yearns  for  its  after  life. 


17 


SLEEP. 

Come  to  me,  gentle  sleep! 
I  pine,  I  pine  for  thee; 
Come  with  thy  spells,  the  soft,  the  deep, 
And  set  my  spirit  free ! 
Each  lonely,  burning  thought 
In  twilight  languor  steep ; 
Come  to  the  full  heart,  long  o'er-wrought, 
O  gentle,  gentle  sleep! 

Come  with  thine  urn  of  dew, 
Sleep,  gentle  sleep!    Yet  bring 
No  voice,  love's  yearning  to  renew, 
No  vision  on  thy  wing! 
Come  as  to  folding  flowers, 
To  birds  in  forests  deep; 
Long,  dark  and  dreamless  be  thine  hours, 
O  gentle,  gentle  sleep! 

18 


SPIRIT  LAND. 

Spirit  land !    Thou  land  of  dreams, 
A  world  thou  art  of  mysterious  gleams ; 
Of  startling  voices,  and  sounds  at  strife; 
A  world  of  the  dt  ad  in  the  hues  of  life. 

Like  a  wizard's  magic  gloss  thou  art, 
When  the  wavy  shadows  float  by,  and  part ; 
Visions  of  aspects  now  loved,  now  strange; 
Glimmering  and  mingling  in  ceaseless  change. 

And  thy  bowers  are  fair, — even  as  Eden  fair, 
All  the  beloved  of  my  soul  are  there  ; 
The  forms  my  spirit  most  pines  to  see; 
The  eyes  whose  love  has  been  life  to  me. 

They  are  there :  And  each  blessed  voice  I  hear 
Kindly  and  joyous,  and  silvery  clear; 
And  in  happy  tones  each  one  shall  say, 
"We  are  glad  you  are  with  us  here  today/' 

19 


CALL  THEM   NOT  BACK. 

Oh !  lightly,  lightly  tread, 
A  holy  thing  is  sleep, 
On  the  worn  spirit  shed 
And  eyes  that  wake  to  weep. 

Ye  know  not  what  ye  do 
That  call  the  slumberer  back, 
From  the  world  unseen  by  you, 
Unto  life's  dim,  faded,  track, 

Her  soul  is  far  away, 
In  her  childhood's  land,  perchance, 
Where  her  young  sisters  play, 
Where  shines  her  mother's  glance. 

Each  voice  of  love  is  there; 
Each  gleam  of  beauty  fled ; 
Each  lost  one  still  more  fair; 
Oh !  lightly,  lightly  tread. 

20 


THE  SPIRIT. 

Will  not  thy  spirit  aid  me  then  to  raise 

The  trembling  pinions  of  my  hope  from  earth? 

Thou  friend  of  many  years 

Of  sadness  and  of  joy,  of  home  and  hearth, 

Come  to  me  when  my  soul 

Hath  but  a  few  hours  to  linger  here, 

When  earthly  chains  are  as  a  shriveled  scroll; 

Oh !  let  me  feel  thy  presence !    Be  but  near ! 

That  I  may  look  once  more 

Into  thine  eyes,  which  never  changed  for  me; 

That  I  may  speak  to  thee  of  that  bright  shore, 

Where,  with  our  treasures,  we  have  longed  to  be. 


21 


THE  SPIRIT. 

(Continued.) 

By  any  lofty  theme, 

Whereon,  in  low-toned  reverence  we  have  spoken; 

By  our  communion  in  each  fervent  dream 

Tho  sought  from  realms  beyond  the  grave  a  token; 

Come  to  me  on  that  day, — 

The  one — that  severed  from  all  days, — O  friend ! 

Even  then,  if  human  thought  may  then  have  sway, 

My  soul  with  thine  shall  yet  rejoice  to  blend. 


22 


DREAMS  OF  THE  DEAD. 

Oft  in  the  still  night,  dreams  of  a  departed  face 
Bends  o'er  me  with  sweet  earnestness  of  eye, 
Wearing  no  more  of  earthly  pains  a  trace 
On  the  dear  brow  of  immortality ;  calm,  yet  profound, 

Oh !  rich  sleep ! 

Thou  hast  strong  spirits  in  thy  region  deep 
Which  glorify,  with  reconciling  breath, 
Effacing,  brightening,  giving  forth  to  shine, 
Beauty's  high  truth.    And  how  much  more  divine 
Thy  power,  when  we  know  there  is  no  death. 


23 


THEY  CROWN  ME. 

They  crown  me  with  a  glistening  crown 
Borne  from  the  angels  above : 
I  hear  the  pealing  music  of  renown 
From  the  voices  that  I  love. 

They  tell  me  that  my  soul  can  throw 
A  glory  o'er  the  earth : 
To  thee,  O  Father!  thanks  I  give, 
And  the  angels  for  their  worth. 


24 


TO  MY  SISTER  JESSIE. 

Sweet,  gentle  soul,  when  thou  wert  used  to  reign 
My  spirit's  queen,  when  wrapt  in  mortal  clay, 
Now,  immortal,  shalt  thou  rule  again. 


25 


MUSIC. 

Whence  is  the  might  of  thy  master  spell? 
Speak  to  me,  voice  of  sweet  sound,  and  tell 
How  canst  thou  wake  by  one  gentle  breath, 
Passionate  visions  of  love  and  death? 

How  callest  thou  back,  with  a  note,  a  sigh, 
Words  and  low  tones;  the  days  gone  by; 
A  sunny  glance,  or  a  fond  farewell? 
Speak  to  me,  voice  of  sweet  sound,  and  tell! 

What  is  thy  power,  from  the  soul's  deep  spring, 
In  sudden  gushes  the  tears  to  bring? 
Even  midst  the  swells  of  thy  festal  glee, 
Fountains  of  sorrow  are  stirred  by  thee. 


26 


MUSIC. 

(Continued.) 

Something  of  mystery  there  surely  dwells, 
Waiting  thy  touch,  in  our  bosom  cells : 
Something  that  finds  not  its  answer  here; 
A  chain  to  be  clasped  in  another  sphere. 

Yet,  speak  to  me  still,  though  thy  tones  be  fraught 
With  vain  remembrance  and  troubled  thought; 
Speak!  for  thou  tellest  my  soul  that  its  birth 
Links  it  with  regions  more  bright  than  earth. 


27 


DARLING. 

Each  day  is  so  full  of  you,  darling, 

That  I  cannot  realize 
You  are  gone  from  the  world  of  turmoil 

To  the  peace  of  paradise. 

For,  ever,  from  morn  till  nightfall, 
Some  hint  of  your  presence  I  know, — 
Some  gleam  of  a  vanishing  vision, 
Half  caught  in  the  sunset  glow. 


28 


DARLING. 

(Continued.) 

Each  day  I  think  of  you,  darling, 
That  I  call  this  a  blessed  time; 
My  soul  is  full  of  its  sweetness, 
Brightened  by  many  a  sign 

That  those  who  have  passed  through  death's  portals 

Are  still  very  near  to  us  here  ; 

That  spirit  to  spirit  responsive 

Makes  all  the  great  meaning  grow  clear. 


DARLING. 

(Continued.) 

Each  day  is  so  full  of  you,  darling, 
That  I  walk  in  a  happy  surprise, 
Finding  thus  my  thoughts  so  companioned 
And  my  prayers  for  high  purposes  rise; 

To  plead  for  divine  benediction, 
For  energy,  courage  and  power 
To  live  the  high  life  of  the  spirit ; 
To  stamp  with  fulfillment  each  hour. 


30 


DARLING. 

(Continued.) 

Each  day  is  so  full  of  you,  darling, 
That  I  cannot  know  grief  or  regret, 
For  my  soul  is  full  of  its  beauty; 
Its  promise;  its  solace;  and  yet 

Ah !  love,  my  supreme  consolation 
Is  a  faith  that  will  some  day  come  true 
That  lends  all  its  cheer  to  the  present, 
The  faith  of  reunion  with  you. 


31 


I  DREAMED  OF  THEE. 

I  dreamed  of  thee,  where  leaves  were  greenest, 
And  the  flowers  around  us  were  sweet  and  fair; 
The  cloudless  heaven  shone  out  serenest, 
And  thy  brow  was  free  from  a  shade  of  care ; 

And  I  dreamed  I  wandered  o'er  hill  and  heather, 
That  livelong  day  of  light  and  love, 
Untired,  unflagging,  still  together, 
Glad  as  the  earth  and  the  heavens  above. 


32 


I  DREAMED  OF  THEE. 

(Continued.) 

I  dreamed; — I  awoke; — thou  are  not  near  me; 
I  cannot  look  in  thine  eyes  today; 
I  cannot  have  thy  voice  to  cheer  me  ; 
Oh!    Life  is  sad  when  thou  art  away: 

But  my  spirit,  her  eager  wing  extending, 
Hath  flown,  in  the  light  of  hope,  to  thine; 
And  I  know  thy  heart  of  hearts  is  blending 
Its  vital  stream  of  love  with  mine. 


33 


MEMORY. 

Stronger  than  death,  thou  art, 

Oh  Memory!    Thou  with  watchful  care  art  keeping 

The  dearest  treasures  of  the  human  heart. 


34 


TEARS. 

A  tear !    'Tis  the  language  of  feeling, 
Of  sympathy,  grief,  and  of  bliss  ; 
A  tear,  'tis  the  message  revealing 
To  friends,  the  heart's  deepest  abyss. 
A  tear,  'tis  the  seal  of  affection, 
'Tis  sweet  sensibility's  gem; 
Then  hail  to  the  balm  of  affliction, 
All  hail  to  the  heart's  diadem. 


35 


THINKING  OF  YOU. 

Sweet  have  I  known  the  blossoms  of  the  morning, 
Tenderly  tinted  to  their  hearts  of  dew; 
But  now  my  flowers  have  found  fuller  fragrance, 
Thinking  of  you. 

Long  have  I  worshiped,  in  my  soul  enshrining, 
High  visions  of  the  noble  and  the  true; 
Now  all  my  visions  and  all  my  prayers  are  purer, 
Thinking  of  you. 

Wise  have  I  seen  the  uses  of  life's  labor, 
To  all  its  puzzles  found  some  answering  clew; 
But  now  my  life  has  learned  a  nobler  meaning, 
Thinking  of  you. 


36 


THINKING  OF  YOU. 

(Continued.) 

In  the  past  days  I  chafed  at  pain  and  waiting; 
Grasped  at  happiness,  as  children  do; 
Now  it  is  sweet  to  wait,  and  joy  to  suffer, 
Thinking  of  you. 

Whether  our  lips  shall  touch,  or  hands  shall  linger; 
Whether  our  love  be  fed,  or  joys  be  few; 
Life  will  be  sweeter  and  more  worth  the  living, 
Thinking  of  you. 


MY    BLOSSOM. 

Do  you  remember  the  first  day  I  met  you, 
You  spoke  and  turned  aside, 

As  though  my  presence  annoyed  you, 
You  blessed,  darling  child! 

Do  you  remember  the  next  time  I  met  you, 
Your  soul  seemed  to  grasp  the  divine; 
And  from  that  very  hour, 
You,  blessed  child,  were  mine. 

You,  for  the  power  of  glory; 
You,  for  the  power  of  light; 
You,  for  God's  holy  wisdom 
Is  with  you  from  morn  till  night. 


38 


MARRIAGE. 

Speak  it  not  lightly !    Oh.  beware,  beware, 

'Tis  no  vain  promise,  no  unmeaning  word; 

Lo !  men  and  angels  lisp  the  faith  ye  swear, 

And  by  the  High  and  Holy  One  'tis  heard; 

Oh,  then  kneel  humbly  at  this  altar  now, 

And  pray  for  strength  to  keep  your  marriage  vow. 


39 


DEVOTION. 

Hush!    'Tis  a  holy  hour!    The  quiet  room 

Seems  like  a  temple,  while  the  soft  light  sheds 

A  starry  radiance  through  the  gloom, 

And  angels  whisper  words  of  love, 

And  we  bow  our  souls  in  prayer  from  above. 


40 


SISTER  M.  C.  S.  AND  I. 

We  blend  together,  you  and  I, 
With  love  from  the  angels  from  on  high, 
Until  our  souls  seemed  joined  together 
In  this  great  world  and  in  the  other. 

Our  heavenly  Father,  we  give  thee  thanks, 
And  to  our  angels  in  all  ranks, 
For  their  constant  devotion  to  you  and  me; 
And  thus  it  shall  be  throughout  eternity. 


41 


TRAVELS. 

You  are  going  on  your  travels, 
But  remember,  our  dear  ones, 
That  angels  guide  your  footsteps 
Wherever  you  may  roam. 

On  steamer,  cars,  or  carriages, 
Think  not  of  danger,  dears, 
We  will  all  surround  you, 
And  make  the  way  so  clear. 

Till  you  reach  your  homeward  journey 
Call  on  us  night  and  day; 
Our  blessings  are  ever  with  you 
Roam  wherever  you  may. 


42 


Hast  thou  been  told  that  from  the  viewless  bourn 
The  dark  way  never  hath  allowed  return? 
That  all  which  tears  can  move  with  life  is  fled — 
That  earthly  love  is  powerless  on  the  dead? 
Believe  it  not. 

' — Felicia  Hemans, 


43 


Is  Death  the  end?  Over  the  grave  bends  Love  sobbing,  and  by 
her  side  stands  Hope,  and  whispers :  "We  shall  meet  again.  Before 
all  life  is  death,  and  after  all  death  is  life.  The  falling  leaf,  touched 
with  the  hectic  flush,  that  testifies  of  autumn's  death,  is,  in  a  subtler 
sense,  a  prophecy  of  spring." 

— Robert  G.  Ingersoll. 


44 


Hast  thou  not  glimpses,  in  the  twilight  here, 
Of  mountains  where  immortal  morn  prevails? 
Comes  there  not,  through  their  silence,  to  thine  ear 
A  gentle  murmur  of  the  morning  gales 
That  sweep  th'  ambrosial  groves  of  that  bright  shore, 
And  thence  the  fragrance  of  its  blossom  bear, 
And  voices  of  the  loved  ones,  gone  before, 
More  musical  in  that  celestial  air? 

— William  Cullen  Bryant. 


Build  thee  more  stately  mansions,  O  my  soul, 

As  the  swift  seasons  roll ! 

Leave  thy  low-vaulted  past ! 
Let  each  new  temple,  nobler  than  the  last 
Shut  thee  from  heaven  with  a  dome  more  vast, 

Till  thou  at  length  art  free, 

Leaving  thine  outgrown  shell  by  life's  unresting  sea. 

— Oliver  Wendell  Holmes, 


46 


It  lies  about  us  like  a  cloud, 

A  world  we  do  not  see, 

Yet  the  sweet  closing  of  an  eye, 

May  bring  us  there  to  be. 

Its  gentle  breathings  fan  our  cheek, 

Amidst  our  worldly  cares ; 

Its  gentle  voices  whisper  love, 

And  mingle  with  our  prayers. 

— Harriet  Beecher  Stowe. 


47 


"Man,  thou  shalt  never  die!"    Celestial  voices 
Hymn  it  unto  our  souls :  according  harps, 
By  angel  fingers  touched,  when  the  mild  stars 
Of  morning  sang  together,  sound  forth  still 
The  song  of  our  great  immortality. 

— R.  H.  Dana. 


48 


Yet  Love  will  dream,  and  Faith  will  trust, 
(Since  He  who  knows  our  need  is  just), 
That  somehow,  somewhere,  meet  we  must. 
Alas  for  him  who  never  sees 
The  stars  shine  through  his  cypress  trees. 
Who,  hopeless,  lays  his  dead  away, 
Nor  looks  to  see  the  breaking  day 
Across  the  mournful  marbles  play. 
Who  hath  not  learned,  in  hours  of  faith, 
The  truth  to  flesh  and  sense  unknown, 
That  Life  is  ever  lord  of  Death 
And  Love  can  never  lose  its  own. 

—John  G.  Whittier. 


49 


Thus  the  seer, 

With  vision  clear, 

Sees  forms  appear  and  disappear, 

In  the  perpetual  round  of  strange 

Mysterious  change 

From  birth  to  death,  from  death  to  birth; 

From  earth  to  heaven,  from  heaven  to  earth, 

Till  glimpses  more  sublime 

Of  things  unseen  before 

Unto  his  wondering  eyes  reveal 

The  universe,  as  an  immeasurable  wheel 

Turning  forevermore 

In  the  rapid  and  rushing  river  of  time. 

— Longfellow. 


50 


Time  may  come,  when  men 
With  angels  may  participate,  and  find 
No  inconvenient  diet,  nor  too  light  fare; 
And  from  these  corporal  nutriments,  perhaps, 
Your  bodies  may  at  last  turn  all  to  spirit, 
Improved  by  tract  of  time,  and  winged,  ascend, 
Ethereal,  as  we;  or  may,  at  choice, 
Here  or  in  heavenly  paradises  dwell; 
If  ye  be  found  obedient,  and  retain, 
Unalterably  firm,  His  love  entire, 
Whose  progeny  you  are. 

— Milton. 


51 


Thou  art.' — directing,  guiding  all — Thou  art! 

Direct  my  understanding  then  to  thee; 

Control  my  spirit,  guide  my  wandering  heart ; 

Though  but  an  atom  midst  immensity, 

Still  I  am  something,  fashioned  by  thy  hand! 

I  hold  a  middle  rank  'twixt  heaven  and  earth — 

On  the  last  verge  of  mortal  being  stand, 

Close  to  the  realms  where  angels  have  their  birth, 

Just  on  the  boundaries  of  the  spirit-land ! 

— Derzhaven. 


52 


Life  is  joy,  and  love  is  power, 
Death  all  fetters  doth  unbind, 
Strength  and  wisdom  only  flower 
When  we  toil  for  all  our  kind. 

Hope  is  truth, — the  future  giveth 
More  than  present  takes  away, 
And  the  soul  forever  liveth 
Nearer  God  from  day  to  day. 

— James  Russell  Lowell. 


53 


If  thou  shouldst  never  see  my  face  again, 

Pray  for  my  soul.    More  things  are  wrought  by  prayer 

Than  this  world  dreams  of.    Wherefore  let  thy  voice 

Rise  like  a  fountain  for  me  night  and  day. 

For  what  are  men  better  than  sheep  or  goats 

That  nourish  a  blind  life  within  the  brain, 

If,  knowing  God,  they  lift  not  hands  of  prayer 

Both  for  themselves  and  those  who  call  them  friend? 

For  so  the  whole  round  earth  is  every  way 

Bound  by  gold  chains  about  the  feet  of  God. 

But  now  farewell.    I  am  going  a  long  way 

With  these  thou  seest — if  indeed  I  go — 

(For  all  my  mind  is  clouded  with  a  doubt) 

To  the  island-valley  of  Avilion; 

Where  falls  not  hail,  or  rain,  or  any  snow, 

Nor  ever  wind  blows  loudly;  but  it  lies 

Deep-meadowed,  happy,  fair  with  orchard-lawns, 

And  bowery  hollows  crown'd  with  summer  seas, 

Where  I  will  heal  me  of  my  grievous  wound. 

— Tennyson. 

54 


They  sin  who  tell  us  love  can  die, 

With  life  all  other  passions  fly; 

All  ours  are  but  vanity. 

In  heaven  ambition  cannot  dwell, 

Nor  avarice  in  the  vaults  of  hell; 

Earthly  these  passions,  as  of  earth. 

They  perish  where  they  drew  their  breath ; 

But  love  is  indestructible; 

Its  holy  flame  forever  burneth  ; 

From  heaven  it  came,  to  heaven  returneth. 

— Robert  Southey. 


55 


The  spiritual  stars  rise  nightly,  shedding  down 
A  private  beam  into  each  several  heart. 
Daily  the  bending  skies  solicit  man, 
The  seasons  chariot  him  from  this  exile, 
The  rainbow  hours  bedeck  his  glowing  chair, 
The  storm-winds  urge  the  heavy  weeks  along, 
Suns  haste  to  set,  that  so  remoter  lights 
Beckon  the  wanderer  to  his  vaster  home. 

— Ralph  Waldo  Emerson, 


56 


And,  though  the  way  to  such  a  goal 

Lies  through  the  clouded  tomb, 

If  on  the  free,  unfettered  soul 

There  rest  no  stains  of  gloom, 

How  should  its  aspirations  rise 

Far  through  the  blue,  unpillared  skies, 

Up  to  its  final  home ! 

Beyond  the  journeyings  of  the  sun, 

Where  streams  of  living  waters  run. 

— James  G.  Clark, 


57 


Wonders  breathe  in  our  face 

And  we  ask  not  their  name; 

Love  takes  all  the  blame 

Of  the  world's  prison-place  ; 

And  we  sing  back  the  songs  as  we  guess  them,  aloud, 

And  we  send  up  the  lark  of  our  music  that  cuts 

Untired  through  the  cloud 

To  beat  with  its  wings  at  the  lattice  Heaven  shuts; 

Yet  the  angels  look  down  and  the  mortals  look  up 

As  the  little  wings  beat, 

And  the  poet  is  blessed  with  their  pity  or  hope. 

'Twixt  the  heavens  and  the  earth  can  a  poet  despond? 

O  Life,  O  Beyond, 
Thou  art  strange,  thou  are  sweet ! 

— Elizabeth  B.  Browning. 


58 


I  know  not  too  well  how  I  found  my  way  home  in  the  night. 

There  were  witnesses,  cohorts  about  me,  to  left  and  to  right, 

Angels,  powers,  the  unuttered,  unseen,  the  alive,  the  aware; 

I  repressed,  I  got  through  them,  as  hardly,  as  strugglingly  there, 

As  a  runner  beset  by  the  populace  famished  for  news — 

Life  or  death.     The  whole  earth  was  awakened,  hell  loosed  with 

her  crews ; 

And  the  stars  of  night  beat  with  emotion,  and  tingled  and  shot 
Out  in  fire  the  strong  pain  of  pent  knowledge;  but  I  fainted  not, 
For  the  Hand  still  impelled  me  at  once  and  supported,  suppressed 
All  the  tumult,  and  quenched  it  with  quiet,  and  holy  behest, 
Till  the  rapture  was  shut  in  itself,  and  the  earth  sank  to  rest. 

— Robert  Browning. 


59 


Smitten  friends 

Are  angels  sent  as  messengers  of  love; 
For  us  they  languish,  and  for  us  they  die : 
And  shall  they  languish,  shall  they  die  in  vain? 
Ungrateful,  shall  we  grieve  their  hovering  shades 
Which  wait  the  revolution  in  our  hearts? 
Shall  we  disdain  their  silent,  soft  address — 
Their  posthumous  advice  and  pious  prayer? 

— Edward  Young. 


60 


We  dream,  but  they  awake ; 

Dread  visions  mar  our  rest; 

Through  thorns  and  snares  our  way  we  take, 

And  yet  we  mourn  the  blest ! 

For  spirits  round  the  Eternal  Throne 

How  vain  the  tears  we  shed ! 

They  are  the  living,  they  alone, 

Whom  thus  we  call  the  dead. 

— Mrs.  Sigourney. 


61 


When  even  at  last  the  solemn  hour  shall  come, 
And  wing  my  mystic  flight  to  future  worlds, 
I  cheerful  will  obey;  there,  with  new  powers, 
Will  rising  wonders  sing.    I  cannot  go 
Where  universal  love  not  smiles  around, 
Sustaining  all  yon  orbs,  and  all  their  suns; 
From  seeming  evil  still  educing  good, 
And  better  thence  again,  and  better  still, 
In  infinite  progression.    But  I  lose 
Myself  in  Him,  in  Light  ineffable ! 

— James  Thomson, 


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